A DRINK BEFORE BATTLE (MxM)

Near the point where the open Brinnish countryside met the foot of the Khasavin Mountains along the riverbank, Sevei and Yanek sat astride two powerful chargers in an uphill position, looking over what would momentarily become a battlefield. Below them, half the troops of both Valeskan units, along with a few Brinnish companies, waited in formation, ready for the signal. The rest had been left in the camps, preparing to switch out as casualties demanded.

Sevei raised a spyglass to peer at the narrow riverbank where it wound around the mountains, finding all still quiet. He swept the glass up the cliffside, where Urskatha and most of the Alchemists had transported a number of archers. There wasn’t a sign to be seen of them. They were well hidden among the caves and the cover of tenacious foliage.

He sighed, wishing with all his soul that he could be by Urskatha’s side, just in case. But personal matters must come second to the campaign, he knew. He sighed again and lowered the glass.

“He’ll be fine,” Yanek said. “Sergeant Kahan is with him, isn’t she?”

“Nnn...” Sevei bit his tongue. “Yes, she’s with him.”

He had almost let slip that Meira was among the Sekkha right below them, disguised in their uniform, preparing to flee at the first opportunity. He glanced sideways to where Lieutenant Thelan stood nearby, having been left with them to liaise with those up the cliff. Sevei shook his head as he saw the Alchemist staring with an unfocused gaze across the river, muttering some esoteric nonsense to himself.

“What’s taking them so long?” Yanek complained.

Sevei chuckled. “Itching to get into it?” he asked.

Yanek sighed. As General and Second, their job would be to oversee the field, signaling direction, not getting into it themselves. Sevei’s fist clenched around the hilt of his sheathed sword. He had to admit that when it started, he’d be itching as well. Not that he enjoyed violence for it’s own sake, but the thrill of a battle couldn’t be denied. Only being pushed onto a table by a certain colleague had ever gotten his blood up like that again. His unruly eyes strayed back up the cliff.

A hail of arrows showered down the cliffside as the first of the Loranarians came through.

Bodies dropped and shields went up. Ethereal energy streaked up and down as the Alchemists of both sides engaged, but... far less of it from the Loranarian side than expected.

“Where are all their weirdos?” Yanek mused.

Sevei raised the spyglass. “There are only two there,” he reported.

“Weren’t they supposed to have a whole elite pack of them?”

The Loranarian soldiers who escaped the arrows began to stream out of the riverbank towards them. Sevei gave the signal for engagement. A horn sounded and several companies advanced. As the Loranarians emerged from their bottleneck, they would certainly be overwhelmed by the troops awaiting them. Sevei narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t like this,” he said. “It’s too easy.”

“Give it time,” Yanek assured him. “There are plenty of them back there to be trouble once they all get out here.”

“No... there’s something...”

Behind them, off in the distance, an explosion sounded, bouncing off of the sky like a thunder clap. Sevei looked over his shoulder, then wheeled his horse around. Far away, a cloud of black smoke roiled up into the sky, only partially obscuring a multitude of ethereal energy arcs crackling through it.

“The port!” Sevei shouted. “This was a fucking distraction!”

Yanek turned his own horse around as well. “How does attacking to port get them to Valesk?” he pondered.

Sevei shrugged, raising the spyglass. “Punish Brinland for joining with us, make them think about kicking us out?”

“Well, the port was evacuated yesterday, and the reserves will respond to that.”

“They’ll need more leadership than captains,” Sevei replied, handing Yanek the spyglass. “Yan, you’re in command here. Lieutenant Thelan, can you get me over there? Then go tell your General what’s going on.”

The Alchemist turned slowly. “Huh?” he said, peering down the river at the lingering plume of smoke. “Oh... sure.”

Sevei trotted his horse over. Thelan gave him an exasperated sigh.

“Ehh... horses really don’t like it... Sir.”

Sevei groaned. “Fine,” he said as he dismounted. “Yan, look after this one. I’ll get another back at camp.”

With a grimace of distaste, Thelan hooked an arm around Sevei’s elbow. “Have you ever done this before?” he inquired.

“Nope,” Sevei said. “First time for everything.”

“Well, you might not like it either,” Thelan replied, his voice lazy and lackadaisical. “Please don’t vomit on me.”

“I’ll...”

For a moment, the world seemed to turn inside out, along with Sevei’s stomach, but then they were standing in the camp’s horse pasture, where the reserves were already mobilizing.

“Mmm...” Sevei groaned.

“Alright?” Thelan asked, sounding completely uninterested in the answer.

“Yeah. Go get Urskatha. Looks like we’ll need some more of your Line down here too.”

Thelan gave a half-hearted salute and disappeared.

Sevei rallied the troops, then led them toward the port. After turning down the main road, he halted within view of the port, hesitant to engage his regular troops with Alchemists. The port was devastated; buildings collapsed, docks splintered and charred, boats sinking. On the opposite riverbank, a large flock of Alchemists were gathered. They had ceased their destruction and appeared to be waiting for something.

As Sevei assessed the situation, a Loranarian Alchemist appeared on the single dock that had been spared. Face covered with a helm, the black clad figure looked ethereally sinister amidst the smog formed of smoke, dust, and river humidity. The helm was removed, and a long red braid cascaded over the shoulder of a very pale-skinned woman. She tucked the helm under her arm and gazed expectantly toward Sevei’s troops.

Sevei was in no hurry to fight an Alchemist, but he’d need to at least stall whatever they had planned until the Fourth Martial Line could arrive. Signaling the troops to stand down, he dismounted and advanced slowly, raising his shield before him. Let’s hope this thing works, he thought. He wanted to kiss the shield for luck, but heard Urskatha’s voice saying Don’t eat it. He chuckled nervously at the memory as he neared the dock.

“You’ve come prepared!” the woman called, eyeing Sevei’s shield.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Sevei inquired pleasantly.

“I’d like to speak with a Brinnish General,” she replied. “Would you be so good as to fetch one for me?”

“Do I look like an errand boy?” he laughed.

“You look like a target.”

“Now, I’ve heard tell that you Alchemists don’t attack regular folk,” Sevei tsk’d. “But then, I’ve also heard that some of your Alchemists don’t follow that rule. Do you have any like that among you?”

“Well, there are rules, and then there are rules.”

Sevei laughed good-naturedly. “I am General Zarayan Sevei of the Valeskan Third Cavalry,” he said. “May I have your name, Lady?”

“You won’t live long enough to need it,” she answered.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve survived an awful lot that should have killed me.”

The woman disappeared, then reappeared right in front of him. Before he could react, she reached over his shield and grasped the grill of his helm.

“Have you?” she said.

The world did that inside-out thing again, and when it stopped, Sevei found himself in darkness, surrounded by a restrictive pressure, and unable to breath.

He was under water.

He was in the fucking river.

And the weight of his armor was pulling him further and further down by the second.